“Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall
Oh, how can I explain ?
It's so hard to get on” bob Dylan, “visions of Johanna”
My friend Riz had a slip into semi-psychosis recently. It was enormously disturbing to me, who certainly has seen all manner of psychotic ideations & behavior in my work, and, nascently, in my own noodle, but never in an intimate friend, a “blood brother”, as we like to call ourselves.
He is recovering well, worry not. But the world outside his safety bubble of a Section Eight apartment is still a threatening universe of unknown presences passing by his windows. Paranoia. Will desroy ya.
I will not betray his confidences anymore, to tell you folks what it is like dealing with severe mental illness. Paradoxically, it is disheartening but also exuberantly inspiring. Crazy folks speak in magficent metaphors. The only difference from ART is that what they think, feel, and say is often incommunicable. It doesn’t resonate. It fails to edify.
“Paradise Lost” or “the inferno” are certainly works of mighty genius, but a schizophrenic or schizoaffective can spin out similar metaphorical universes easily. That is what defines them as mentally ill: a travelling beyond the common paradigms into intensely personal symbology.
Literary critics ought to heal the mentally disturbed, not booksmart clinically minded good men and women with their DSM on their bookshelves next to their thick tomes of scholarly empirical expertise on aberrant behavior, and a few choice (passé) volumes of Freud or Jung or Rogers or Maslow, wherever they find inspiration, which they must integrate as “one percent “ to the “99 percent” of safe practical limp knowledge they are schooled on.
………………………………………………………………………………………
This is not an intrusion on my big buddy boy’s confidence, I don’t think, this conversation we had:
“Jim! How are you?”
“Damn good, you?”
“Dunno. So much emotions and thoughts battling in my head. I gotta keep on my toes!”
“What emotions?”
“Various ones. I feel like, well, I could die any minute!”
“From what? You seem awfully good to me today!”
“From happenstance! I could get parasites from my chewing tobacco. Heartworm!”
“Ha! Do you know what ‘heartworm ‘ is?”
Innocent trusting eyes & voice; “No, what?”
“It’s a dog disease! Dogs get it!”
“what do you mean, I’m like a dog now? I felt like a dog once. “
“NO, NO, you damn fool.dogs get this worm..”
“Oh, dogs only? OK…”
Silence .DO NOT LOOK HIM IN THE EYES, I tell myself…
(the dog thing…)
“Jim, could you do me a favor?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Pour out that cleaner for me. I don’t wanna drink it.”
“You got it, sweetheart.”
Finally a laugh: “thanks, honey!”
Back from pouring it out, I say, “well, you LOOK damn good, man.”
“Looks are deceiving.’’
“Yours and mine especial’
“Yours and mine especially, right?”
“ha, always. “ Pause. “Jim, did someone go by outside?”
“No.”
“thought I saw someone. “
“no, you are seeing things, you crazy fucker!”
“ha, yeah, shit. Where does this paranoia come from?”
“inside, and the past.”
“yeah, yeah. Ok. So how are you? You don’t look like yourself. You look like your older brother.”
“why?”
“those teeth, man! Totally made u a new man. Never saw you smile!”
“yeah, I know, it’s all I can do now…”
“that’s good , though.”
“yeah, it’s about time. What about YOU smiling?”
“I can’t so much anymore.”
“why?”
“I got slammed down in the ER.”
“what?”
“they put my head on the floor, the hard concrete, and said, ‘we know the guy to talk to you’. It was an African American guy, a preacher, he told me, ‘you took the slam down for christ’ !”
“preacher man, huh?”
“Yeah. What did he mean? You know of such things through your reading.”
“well, I like the jesus story. He got in trouble for tellin the truth. Nobody wanted to hear it. Imagine: uh, if you an d me and some of our crazy pals stormed wall st and started screaming at those stupid suits, those money guys..that is kinda what him & his crew did, they occupied Jerusalem with their gang, lotsa followers, lotsa luscious gals, too, I will bet, these hard ass guys.”
He was horrified. “they woulda killed him?!”
“Yeah they sure did that.”
“right but not kill, right? He rose from the dead?”
“somehow, I dunno, after 3 days.”
“what about Buddha? Did he rise from the dead?”
“ah, no, I dunno. He taught for like 60 years.’
“that ‘eternal now’ book you gave me, should I read it?”
“why not?”
“ok”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Schizoaffective disorder is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by recurring episodes of elevated or depressed mood, or of simultaneously elevated and depressed mood, that alternate with, or occur together with, distortions in perception.[1][2]
Schizoaffective disorder most commonly affects cognition and emotion. Auditory hallucinations, paranoia, bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social and occupational dysfunction are typical. The division into depressive and bipolar types is based on whether the individual has ever had a manic, hypomanic or mixed episode. Symptoms usually begin in early adulthood, which makes diagnosis prior to age 13 rare.
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Comments
In the early 70's I did a student internship at the state hospital. In the very same room's where "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" was filmed.
I had many a conversation of similar digression and progression with sundry residents. It was most eye opening. More like an impromptu musical jam than common conversation.
One day bewteen shifts on the "chronic long term" ward the real gate keepers were not told I was a college student. It took me an entire second shift to convince the guy on the other side of the wire in glass 8" x8" window in the door that I did not belong there. Hell...that's what everybody said.
I don't need none right now, but maybe later!! The psychosis!! And not in my face!! :)
A nod to yer loyal strength.
Rated.
oh god yeah.
and then there are those moments when someone schizoaffective says something offhand and you realize that they ARE the fucking genius they think they are, it's just buried in there deep- irretrievable due to illness.
for the moment
~R~
Impromptu jams of the voicebox. Not for the weak of heart.
Glad you got springed from the loony ward.
TINK: NAH, I don’t need it much anymore either. But it will come, and come, and entreat.
FERNSY: REREADING is a lost art, dollface! Thank u.
MATT: got no choice, being his friend. Fate is at work, big time.
JULIE: Genius has many odd hiding places indeed. Genius is momentary. It is not a quality of a man or woman. It is a neuronal conjunction. And an explosion. And it hurts, hurts bad….
aught, maybe.
I liked this.
Education about mental illness is critical, and your artful elements make it much more interesting.
i've spent a lifetime in check
maybe if i stopped moving against the rules
maybe not.
REI: AHA, terrific. Me on facebook. About time. I am so reluctant in my own life. But in the cause, absolutely. Thanks.
CHUCK: IN ceremonies of the horsemen/even the pawn can hold a grudge…luckily one’s Love doesn’t need to to argue or to judge…
Your an artist and activist. Hats off.
Rated.
of stuffed suits someday, in a stuffed suit myself,
only prettier than them, and
give em all a serious tongue lashing, one ultra WASP
TO 60 others...hah...
i do so like making a spectacle of myself in a good cause...
but dope will do it to you, right ?
I've got friends who've been on lithium 30 years, from one hashish session.
a mind can be trained to work around "noise" - no one knows how many do. but any one can have a break - anyone. it is only when the break is misunderstood and mistreated that single episode can be turned into the life long battle that many have lost.
we all respond to stress in different ways - some become lethargic and some energetic - the genes these people carry made it this far for good reason. perhaps as Kesey noted they dont stack as well after threshing. teaching those who fall outside the stackable norm that they are broken serves drug companies and managed care corps - not people. thanks again for a great post and for being a great person!
“inside, and the past.”
Talk about profound! That's exactly where paranoia comes from, we start to think about the reality of the past. I hope Riz starts to feel better soon. Love to you both.
"Imagine: uh, if you an d me and some of our crazy pals stormed wall st and started screaming at those stupid suits, those money guys..that is kinda what him & his crew did, they occupied Jerusalem with their gang..."
I like the parallel you make.
One good friend once said:
"It is not the mentally ill who are sick;it is the society they live in".
Apparently,genius and paranoia go hand in hand.
James,you are indeed a good friend,and the way you have had the conversation with Riz shows that you take him seriously no matter in what state he is.Takes a lot of strength on your part;on his,too.
your story is good for a slapstick
filled with information that few of us know
I was married to a man who worked with
homeless people with this diagnosis
I often heard his end of the conversation
when they would call him at home
about all the things they were hearing and seeing
he spent hours calming them
he became good friends with some of them
they trusted him
being a friend
having a friend
Your new smile will be important
rated with love
HEIDI; THANK god I don’t get the paranoia, only the genius!
OLD NEW: indeed. Indeed.
THOTH: THE best kind, the loyal kind.
MARGARET: Thanks for catching the parallel….
LHEURE: paranoia, where where does it start????
SNOWDEN: IMMENSE PROFUNDITY: “it is only when the break is misunderstood and mistreated that single episode can be turned into the life long battle that many have lost.”